


Comrade With the Wolf

by gwynhefar



Category: Primeval
Genre: Character Death Fix, Fix-It, M/M, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-14
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-05 09:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwynhefar/pseuds/gwynhefar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2.07 Fixit. What if one of the creatures in the cage room was more than she seemed? Nick/Stephen. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Joshua always said that there was an art to fighting when grossly outnumbered.  You had to plan ahead, like in a chess match.  If I do  _x_ , opponent A will do  _y_ , while opponents B, C, and D will do  _z_ , allowing me to do something supremely badass and take them all down.  Or something like that.  Trouble is, I was never very good at chess.    
  
Joshua also said that even the best battle plans never survive the first encounter with the enemy, although in this particular case it was an unexpected ally that threw my tentative plans out the heavily-reinforced window.  Which is why I was on my feet and moving the moment that Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome, and  _Idiotic_ sealed himself in the cage room.    
  
Outnumbered by seven to (basically) one, trapped in a circular room with no cover, limited maneuverability, surrounded by vicious predators and an unarmed human who smelled of guilt all clued me into the fact that my original plan of 'trick them all into killing each other' wasn't going to cut it anymore.    
  
And for the record, guilt is the  last thing you want a potential ally smelling like right before you do battle.  I know some people tell you that it's the smell of fear that sets creatures off, but at least a scared man can still fight.  The guilty ones, they're likely not even to try.  Which means my first order of business had to be to get my temporary companion off the sidelines and into the battle.  I intended to get out of this room in one piece, and Mr. T-D-H-and-I wasn't going to ruin it for me.  You see, I had to tell you how bad it was so you can properly appreciate the sheer  _brilliance_ of the next few minutes.     
  
So, on to what Joshua calls the 'after-action report.'     
  
Location - big round room.  Participants: two velociraptors (hey, I saw Jurassic Park!), one saber-toothed cat, three crazy mutant bat thingys, one oversized mutant seal with fangs, one unarmed, guilty-smelling idiotic human male, and me.    
  
If Mr. T-D-H-and-I was going to be of any use at all then he needed to be armed.  And the only weapons in the room were the ones attached to me and the other creatures.  I wasn't about to give up any body parts but, looking around, I figured a velociraptor would do.  So I took a line of sight on the closest one, took a deep breath, prayed to any gods that may exist that I'd get through this, and struck.    
  
I bit the raptor's hind leg straight through, just below the knee, and in the same motion flung the limb to land at the human's feet.  Now I just had to hope he wasn't so Idiotic as to not pick it up and use it.  The raptor fell, off-balance, and tried to bite me on the way down, but I twisted out of the way and tore out its throat.    
  
Unfortunately while concentrating on that one, the other had got the drop on me.  It landed on my back and there was a searing pain down my left flank.  I rolled, which knocked it off me, and we came up facing each other.    
  
The raptor leapt again, but this time I ducked, twisted, and tore out its throat as it passed over me.  Two creatures down.    
  
I spared a glance at the man, and found that he'd at least had the presence of mind to pick up the raptor claw, and was using it to fend off the seal thing, while scrambling one hand behind him.  He'd also backed toward the wall, which he should have done from the start, but at least he was fighting back now.    
  
The bat-things had climbed the walls to stalk from above, so they were out of my reach for now.  They were quick, and could climb anything, but their biggest strength seemed to be their stealth.  In this room, deprived of cover and room to maneuver, they were actually the least of my concern.  That left the cat and the seal.  Mr. T-D-H-and(maybe not so)-I seemed to be doing OK with the latter, so I turned my attention the cat.    
  
I'd dealt with saber-toothed cats before.  The cat was slightly more agile, but I was stronger and at least as quick. His agility was his main advantage here, so that needed to go, and fast.  I circled, darting in to snap as his legs and flanks before jumping back.  He tried to follow my movements, but I could tell he was getting frustrated.  Which is exactly what I wanted.  On my next dart, I crushed his left hind leg in my jaws.  He fell, and tried to turn on me, but I'd already moved.  Now lame, he couldn't move nearly as quickly.  My next attack took out his right foreleg, and once he was on the floor I moved in for the kill.   
  
I turned to see how the man was doing and was just in time to see him grabbed from above by a bat-thingy.  As he flew up, something heavy dropped to the floor, but I didn't have time to look at it.  I ran across the room and leapt after him.  My injured leg almost gave out but I was able to snag his ankle with my teeth.    
  
My weight dragged him and the bat thingy back to the floor, and as they fell I backed out of the way and jumped over his body to snatch the bat-thing.  It was neither as big as the cat nor as armored as a raptor and with one sharp shake of my head I was left holding  its head while the rest of it slammed against the wall.    
  
Two loud cracks behind me had me spinning around and I found that the man had retrieved what he'd dropped - a handgun.  With two rounds he'd taken out the other two bat-thingys with perfectly placed head shots.  Why he hadn't used the damn thing at first I have no idea, but at least the odds were in our favor now.    
  
We turned our attention to the seal creature but unfortunately the handgun didn't have nearly as much effect against the massive beast.  It advanced on the man, but we'd got this far and I'd be damned if I let some overgrown pinniped ruin things now.    
  
My leg felt like it was on fire, and I was definitely flagging, but I pulled the last of my strength together and sprang upon the creatures back, digging my teeth as deep into its neck as I could, trying for the spinal cord.  It reared back in pain, and the man took the opportunity to bury the raptor claw under its jaw and fire a bullet into its eye.  With a groan, it collapsed.    
  
I slipped off its back to the floor.  I was dizzy with loss of blood, and my left hind leg wouldn't obey my commands.  The man and I stared at each other, and I couldn't help but think that all he'd see when he looked at me was another monster.    
  
Didn't I mention?   You see, I'm a wolf.  A dire wolf, to all outside appearances.  Well, a  were -dire wolf to be precise.  And right now all I could think of was that I was injured and covered in blood, with blood and gore dripping from my jaws.  I would hardly blame him if, after everything, he saw me as another threat.  I lowered my head, as submissive as I could, even though it rankled.  I let out a little involuntary whimper as the adrenaline of the fight faded and my injury caught up with me.  I knew I wouldn't be able to muster up the energy to change forms even if the gash in my leg hadn't made it a dangerous prospect to try.  All I could do was watch and wait for the verdict.   
  
He seemed hesitant and wary, but after checking to make sure that nothing else was in sight and seeing that I wasn't attacking, at last he tucked the gun into the back of his jeans and came toward me, slowly.  I didn't move.  He started up the soothing nonsense people often use to calm a wild animal.   
  
"Easy there.  I won't hurt you.  I just want to look at that leg."  When I made no move to attack he came over and knelt down, placing a gentle hand on my flank.  Despite his best efforts, the pain flared.  I whined and clamped down on the instinct to snap.    
  
"Well, that's not a small scratch, is it?  But at least it's not bleeding too badly."  He took off his shirt and tore it in two, wrapping the cloth tightly around my hip.  I gritted my teeth and tried not to whimper too much.  But once the pressure was on, it did feel much better.  He came back up to my head and looked right into my eyes.   
  
"OK then.  We really need to get out of here and get that looked at but there's no way I can carry you.  Do you think you can walk?  Just a little bit?"  He backed up to give me space and made a gesture like telling a dog to come.    
  
"Come on.  Up you get.  You can do it."  I was too tired and sore to even really resent being compared to a common pet, but I gathered myself up, leveraging as much of my weight onto my forelegs as I could.  I pulled my hind end up, keeping the weight on the good right leg.    
  
My legs trembled for a bit, but they held.  Experimentally I moved forward - front right, front left, hind right and a little hop.  I wouldn't be going far or fast, but at least I was semi-mobile.  He grinned at me and reached up to reward me with a stroke to the head.   
  
"Good girl.  OK, let's get out of here."  He headed toward the door through which he'd come, limping slightly on the ankle I'd grabbed him by, but otherwise seemingly unhurt apart from bruises and a few nasty scratches from where the bat thing had grabbed him.    
  
I followed slowly and it finally hit me.  Between the two of us we'd taken out seven of the deadliest creatures known on earth and, well, wherever those bat and seal things came from.  And apart from what looked like a sprained ankle on him and a deep, but non-life threatening gash on me, we were in pretty good shape.  Joshua would be proud.   
  
He took a moment to struggle with the door, but finally it opened.  Beyond was a hallway, and just outside the door another man was huddled against the wall, sobbing, his head buried against his bent knees.    
  
The man who'd been in the feeding room with me stopped abruptly with a shocked look on his face that immediately turned stricken.  And there went the guilt again.  He moved out of the doorway and knelt by the other man.   
  
"Nick."  The man on the floor shuddered, but didn't look up.  My man put his hand on Nick's knee.   
  
"Nick, look at me.  Nick!"  The other man finally looked up.  The look on his face made me catch my breath.  I'd seen it only once before - the look of a man who'd just had everything he thought he'd lost handed back to him and didn't dare believe it yet.   
  
"Stephen?"    
  
My man, Stephen, managed a shaky smile and reached out to touch the other man's face. "Yeah, Nick.  It's OK.  It's over.  I'm OK."    
  
Nick gave another sob and suddenly lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Stephen.  Stephen brought his own arms up and they held each other tight.  After all the terror and death of the last few minutes, hell for me the last few  weeks , the sight warmed my heart and if I could cry in this form I'm sure I would have.  Didn't last very long though, because Nick raised his head slightly and I could see the horror in his eyes as he caught sight of me.    
  
"Stephen!" He shoved the other man off and to the side and started feeling around, presumably for a weapon.  I just stood there - I didn't have the energy for anything else.  Stephen grabbed his arm.   
  
"Nick!  Nick!  It's OK." Stephen finally manged to stop Nick's frantic motions with the effective method of practically sitting on him.    
  
"She saved me in there.  I don't know exactly what she is or where she's from, but she saved my life.  She helped me kill the other creatures in there, which is how we made it out.  And she's injured.  She won't hurt us, Nick."    
  
Nick stared at me, dazed. "Dire wolf," he said.   
  
"What?"   
  
"She's a dire wolf," Nick said absently, still staring at me. "Late Pleistocene, native to the Americas."   
  
"Well, whatever she is, I owe her my life.  Help me get her back to the ARC?  That gash on her flank really needs to be looked at."    
  
I wasn't entirely sure what an ark was (or at least, what it meant in this context) but it was pretty clear I wasn't going to be able to get far on my own, and I realised I really had no choice but to trust Stephen and hope whatever he had planned didn't involve me being a lab rat.  Stephen stood up and pulled Nick to his feet before walking over to me.  He reached up to rub my ears.    
  
"You're a mess," he said fondly, and I had to wuff a laugh.  Yeah that about summed it up.  Suddenly Stephen looked around the hallway, as if looking for something.   
  
"Where's Helen?" he asked.    
  
Nick looked grim. "Gone."    
  
Stephen nodded.  "Good riddance."   
  
He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck and damn it, there was that guilt again.  "Look, Cutter, I'm sorry, I should have . . ."  Whatever it was he should have done I may never know because Nick stepped forward and pulled his hand down and held it.   
  
"It's OK.  It's not like I haven't been acting like an arsehole lately myself.  You've more than made up for it.  Just . . . don't do it again."    
  
Stephen smiled slightly. "You can count on that.  I've let her trick me twice now, but even I do learn eventually.  I see so much as a hint of Helen again I'm calling in reinforcements."    
  
Nick smiled.  "Good enough."    
  
Now it was his turn to look uncomfortable.  He looked down, and then back up again.   
  
"Stephen . . ." He shook his head, as if to clear it, and then stepped forward and pulled Stephen into another tight hug.  Stephen looked startled, but returned it.  "Don't you ever do that to me again," Nick said, fiercely.  "When you locked yourself in there with those . . things . . I thought . . . . Just, don't, OK?"    
  
Stephen held him tighter. "I'll do my best, I promise."   
  
Now I'm a sappy as the next girl, but I could tell my feet weren't going to stay under me much longer, so I whined.  The men started, and pulled apart, and Stephen looked guilty again.   
  
"God, I'm sorry.  We're standing here blathering and you're still bleeding.  Come on, let's go get you fixed up."  With Stephen and Nick on either side of me, ready to steady me if I stumbled, we made it out of the hallway and halfway across the next room before I heard voices and the pounding of many feet.  I whined again, and tried to shrink back.  Stephen and Nick I trusted, but a large number of unknowns were heading our way and I couldn't even fool myself into thinking there was any fight left in me.  Stephen and Nick both looked down as I'd stopped, concern on their faces.   
  
"What's wrong?" Nick asked.   
  
I almost rolled my eyes - like I could answer like this.  But I didn't need to, because now the sounds I'd heard were audible to their duller ears.  Nick had his hand resting on my back, and Stephen moved to stand in front of me, pulling out his gun.  I was actually quite touched by the gesture, useless as it may be for him to try to shield something as tall as his shoulder and twice as wide as he was. The door in front of us opened and a dozen soldiers poured in, guns drawn.  Nick and Stephen smiled and relaxed, so I assume that meant they were good guys.    
  
The soldiers had their guns pointed at me, but with Nick's hand resting casually on my back and the both of them acting like I was no threat, no one made a move to shoot.   
  
"Glad you could make it," Nick said, only slightly sarcastically.    
  
The lead soldier relaxed a little as well. "Stephen, Professor, are you two all right?"   
  
"We're OK," answered Nick.  "Helen got away again, but Leek is dead and the creatures he collected are all dead or contained.  Well, except for this one, but she's friendly."   
  
The soldiers looked skeptical.   
  
"Really," Stephen said.  "I know we don't get a lot of that around here, especially if it has teeth, but she saved my life.  She's not going to attack anyone.  I want to get her back to the ARC - she's injured and she's lost a lot of blood."   
  
As if on cue, the trembling in my legs increased and my right hind leg, which had been holding most of my weight, collapsed.  I went down, and not gently either, but Nick helped support me and caught my head before it could hit the floor.  I looked up at him and whined again, and he petted my head and murmured low reassuring words that I couldn't quite make out.    
  
I heard Stephen calling some of the soldiers over and between them they managed to fashion a sort of stretcher.  I rolled over onto it on my own when they put it down and found myself being carried out to a military vehicle.  Stephen and Nick stayed with me.  I closed my eyes and drifted a bit, while they peppered the soldiers with questions, mainly about people named Abby, Connor, and Jenny.  Whatever the soldiers said made Stephen and Nick relax and fall silent for awhile.   
  
I pulled my attention back when I heard Stephen and Nick start talking about me.  I kept my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, too muddled to realize I probably needn't have bothered, as they had no reason to think I could understand English.   
  
"What do you think?" Stephen asked Nick.   
  
"I don't know.  Physically, I'd swear she's a dire wolf.  We've got pretty good specimens, and she fits perfectly.  But behavior-wise, I have no idea.  A dire wolf is exactly the kind of creature Leek would have wanted in his menagerie, but it doesn't explain why she defended you in there instead of attacking, or why she's not shying away from us.  She's exhibited a much higher level of intelligence than is usually credited to dire wolves as well."   
  
"Perhaps the area was populated where she comes from?  Could she have been domesticated?"   
  
"It's possible, I suppose.  There were humans living in North America in the Late Pleistocene, but there's never before been evidence that dire wolves were domesticated.  The people who migrated from Asia brought their own dogs with them, so there would have been no need to attempt domesticating the native species.  And even then, I'd've thought the smaller grey wolf would have been a more logical candidate for domestication and they were coexistent at the time.  So yes, it's possible, but not likely."   
  
"What do you think Lester will do with her?"    
  
"I won't let him hurt her, Stephen, I promise.  I owe her a lot too.  Once we get that leg healed I think all we can do is take care of her at the ARC and hope an anomaly opens up to her time so we can send her back.  Whichever one Leek got her from is long gone."  Someone, probably Stephen, started stroking my back.  I couldn't see Nick's face, but when he next spoke I could hear the amusement in his voice.   
  
"Unlike Rex, I don't think she'd really fit in your flat."   
  
"She deserves better than to be kept in a cage.  I know there's nowhere she can be let loose, but . . "   
  
"We'll figure something out, Stephen."   
  
"We?  Last time I checked I don't really have a job anymore."  Although the words seemed bitter, Stephen's tone was more defeated than anything.   
  
"You do.  If you want it.  We've both done a lot of stupid things lately.  Can we just call it even and move on?" There was a hint of desperation in Nick's voice.   
  
"Yeah, I'd like that."   
  
Nick breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."   
  
After that they fell silent, and, with Stephen still stroking my back, I fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Nick**  
  
Watching Stephen fuss over the dire wolf was bittersweet.  She'd fallen unconscious on the ride to the ARC, and I'd begun to worry.  Stephen had been nearly frantic.  But the doctor assured us that although the gash was deep, it hadn't hit any arteries and the permanent muscle damage would be minimal.  She'd probably limp for a few weeks, but in the end she'd heal completely.  In the wild, a gash like that would have been a death sentence.  Here, she'd at least survive.   
  
Lester had raised an eyebrow when I had come in, towing a shirtless Stephen and a giant unconscious wolf that Stephen swore was friendly, but at least he hadn't said anything. It probably wasn't the strangest thing he'd seen today. Stephen had insisted, and Lester had surprisingly agreed, that the dire wolf would be kept in one of the quarantine rooms, which were larger and more comfortable than the animal holding pens - at least until we had an idea of what to do with her.   
  
Although the soldiers had told us in the bunker that Abby, Connor, and Jenny had made it out OK, I didn't really relax until I saw them at the ARC.  Abby had cried all over Stephen, apologising, and even Connor had seemed a bit misty-eyed when he heard how close we'd come to losing him.  Abby, of course, cooed over the wolf once Stephen had given up convincing her that everything was his fault and just accepted her apology.   
  
Which is how I ended up standing outside the infirmary after a brief check-up, watching Stephen hover as the doctor stitched the dire wolf's leg back up, and wondering where to go from here.  It's not that I hadn't forgiven him - I had.  God, those minutes in the hallway after I'd turned away, too much of a coward to watch my best friend sacrifice himself for me, were the worst of my life.  All I could hear were growls and the tearing of flesh - I'd thought I'd been hearing Stephen's death.  Nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to that.   
  
And when I was honest with myself, everything that had happened started with me.  After Ryan's death, after we got back from the Permian to no Claudia Brown and Helen's spiteful revelation - I'd been so gutted, so frustrated that everything seemed to have changed and no one knew but me.  No one else had mourned Claudia because no one but me had ever known her.  And there was nothing I could do about it - and no clear target on which to place blame.  
  
But there was Stephen - and he _had_ done something, so he became the target of all my resentment at the situation.  I should have known better.  I should have known _Stephen_ better. Helen had asked him to leave with her and he hadn't, he'd stayed. Instead, I was the one who left - distancing myself, pushing him away for something that had happened more than eight years ago.  No wonder he had listened to Helen.  I hadn't given him much choice.  
  
I was so deep in my self-recrimination that I didn't realise when Stephen finally came back out into the hallway.  I heard him call my name, in that tone of voice he used when it wasn't the first time he'd had to say it.  He stood there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his torn jeans, a t-shirt he must have borrowed from one of the soldiers hanging on his too-thin frame and why hadn't I noticed that he was getting thinner?   
  
It hit me then, in that moment, as he stood there disheveled and awkward, with a smear of blood still on his cheek and with that damn bruise I had put there, that I loved this man.  Loved him more than I had ever loved Helen, more than I had ever loved anyone else before.  Stephen was my constant and had been my companion for almost ten years. The one who had always been there for me, even in those dark days after Helen's disappearance when I had been no fit company for anyone.  He had pulled me out of myself - not just then, but time and time again; whenever I got too obsessed or brooded too much he would be there with a quick smile and a joke and soon everything would feel lighter.   
  
Today I could have lost him.  He could have died thinking I hated him when that couldn't be further from the truth.  It was this huge, amazing, _wonderful_ revelation, and I wanted to laugh, I wanted to grab him and spin him around and kiss him until breathing became an issue.   
  
But I didn't.  Not when there was still so much between us. Not when Stephen was still standing there as if unsure of his welcome.   
  
I shook my head to clear it and gave him a soft smile. "Sorry," I said. "Tired."   
  
He relaxed fractionally, and then he smiled too. "Yeah, me too," he said, and we stood there for a moment grinning like loons.   
  
"C'mon," I said, "I'll give you a ride home."  I wanted to get out of there before Lester had the chance to corral us into a briefing room.  
  
And when Stephen fell into step beside me it felt so right, so normal, and I began to let myself hope everything would actually be OK.  
  
\-----------------------  
  
 **Stephen**  
  
Falling into step beside Nick was more habit than anything else, but it felt good.  When I first came out into the hallway after getting the dire wolf settled, Nick had been leaning up against the wall, looking miserable and conflicted.  I'd had to call his name twice, and for a moment, I was afraid he'd change his mind, and tell me to get out.   
  
And then when he'd smiled at me instead - really smiled - it was like something tight in my chest had loosened.  I had to smile back. And then he was offering me a lift home, which was good, seeing as my car was still at the bunker.   
  
To be honest, I didn't really want to go back to my flat, with the ghost of Helen still lingering, but right now I'd go anywhere Nick Cutter wanted to take me.  
  
Which, as it turned out, wasn't home.  Or at least not mine.  I must have drifted off in the pickup because when it stopped, it was outside Nick's house, not my flat, and I hadn't even noticed.  I glanced over at Nick, silently inquiring.  He stared at his knuckles on the steering wheel.  
  
"I don't want to be alone tonight," he admitted, practically whispering.   
  
And that was good, better than good, because I hadn't wanted to be alone tonight either.  Alone, where I would see evidence of Helen everywhere.  Alone, where I would be reminded of how badly I'd screwed up, of just how wrong I'd been.  Alone, where there were monsters in every corner.  Alone, where I would make myself believe Nick still hated me.  No, alone would definitely not be good.  
  
So I smiled, even though Nick still wasn't looking at me. "Me neither."   
  
Nick looked up then, and the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled in that way that I love, the way that always makes me want to kiss the wrinkles away.  And I had to get control of that _now_ because Nick was acting like he'd forgiven me, acting like he'd used to before Helen's return, and I'd missed it so much. There was no way was I was going to risk this unbelievable second chance for anything.  
  
And so I found myself walking toward the door which I knew as well or better than my own, slightly in front of Nick so I wouldn't be distracted by the way his arse filled out his jeans.  Tired as I felt now, I wasn't sure I'd be able to pretend that I wasn't looking.  Not that I was up for doing anything about it, even if by some miracle Nick were interested and, dammit, Stephen, don't even go there.  Natural response to near-death situations, I reminded myself, sternly.   
  
I nearly got torn apart by vicious predators today.  And before that I'd truly believed Nick and the others were dead. Of course I wanted to do something to celebrate the fact that he and I were both, in fact, still alive.  Didn't mean I would get to.   
  
Couch.  Sleep.  If I was lucky, things would be more normal in the morning, and we could start to put all this behind us. That would be more than enough.  
  
I reached the door first, but stood back while Nick dug out his keys to open it.   
  
"Forget your keys?" he asked, as he finally fished his out from amongst a handful of coins.   
  
I ducked my head.  I did have a set of keys to Nick's place, and time was I would have used them as a matter of course. "I didn't want to presume."   
  
Suddenly I felt Nick's hand on my jaw, lifting my chin.  His face was inches from mine.  His intense blue eyes held mine even as a small smile quirked his lips.  
  
"Hey," he said, "presume away."  
  
\-------------------------------------  
  
 **Nick**  
  
I never even considered taking Stephen back to his flat.  I needed him nearby.  I needed to know he was safe.   
  
I knew I'd wake from nightmares of teeth and blood and Stephen's face behind that damn window and I'd need to be able to see him, to know that he was still here, still alive.     
  
Even now I couldn't help sneaking small glances across to where he was dozing in the passenger seat, head against the window, dark circles under his eyes.  They weren't new, and again I cursed myself for being so caught up in my own issues that I hadn't noticed what was happening to Stephen right before my eyes.  
  
No more.  From now on I would focus on proving to Stephen that I could be as good a friend to him as he had been to me - maybe even more, if he wanted. And if Helen came near him again I'd kill her.  
  
Stephen stirred when we pulled up outside my house and when he looked over at me and quirked an eyebrow, I had to look down to keep from jumping him then and there.  He was still waiting for an answer, so I gave him the only one I had.  
  
"I don't want to be alone tonight," I admitted.   
  
He was silent for a moment, but finally he replied.  "Me neither."   
  
And when I looked up, he was smiling that soft smile I so rarely saw, and it was just like that moment in the hallway.  I couldn't help but smile back.  
  
Stephen walked slightly ahead of me to my front door, while I did my best to keep my eyes from drifting down to his rear.  I wasn't entirely successful, which led to him standing awkwardly as I belatedly fumbled for my keys.  
  
"Forget your keys?" I asked, teasingly.  Usually it was the other way around, with Stephen ending up using his to let me into my own place.  But this time he just looked down, uncomfortable again.  
  
"I didn't want to presume," he said softly, and my heart clenched.  He still didn't believe I'd forgiven him.  Without even thinking, I reached out and took his chin in my hand, lifting his head until I could see his eyes, bright blue and so wary.   
  
"Hey," I said, smiling a little to show I meant it, "presume away."  
  
He stared at me then, wide-eyed, with something like hope dawning in his features.  I let go of him long enough to unlock and shove open the door, before reaching out to grab his shoulder.   
  
"Come on," I said, guiding him inside.  "It's been a long day.  We can talk in the morning."  
  
He nodded absently and made to head toward the couch, but I steered him upstairs instead.  
  
"The couch is uncomfortable to sleep on.  I should know, I've spent plenty of time there.  The bed is plenty big enough for two."  It was a lame excuse, but when I said I wanted him nearby, I meant _very_ nearby.  
  
He actually blushed at that and looked down.  "I'll probably have nightmares," he admitted, softly. "Don't want to wake you up."  
  
"I'll probably have them too," I countered. "All the more reason to stay close.  Look, if you're uncomfortable, I can take the floor, I just . . ."  
  
"No." Stephen shook his head.  "It's fine.  I'm just warning you."  
  
My lips twisted in a tired grin.  
  
"Consider me warned.  Any more arguments?"  
  
Stephen met my eyes and held them. "No," he said seriously.  "No more arguments."  
  
I knew he wasn't just talking about sleeping arrangements, but I was too tired to give the matter the attention it needed.  
  
"Come on, then.  Let's get some sleep."  
  
And I led the way up the stairs, Stephen mutely following.  
  
\-----------------------------------------------  
  
 **Stephen**  
  
When I woke, it wasn't from a nightmare.  In fact, I didn't remember dreaming at all.  Suddenly I was just awake, and aware that I wasn't in my own bed.  It was a moment before it all came back -- the cage room, the dire wolf, and most of all Nick.  Nick forgiving me.  Nick bringing me home.  Nick, who was right now on the other side of the bed, whimpering in his sleep.  
  
I immediately realised that this was what had woken me.  Nick was sleeping on his back, tossing his head, face wet with tears or sweat -  I wasn't sure which.  
  
I reached out to grip his shoulder and he flinched.  
  
"Nick," I spoke in the calmest voice I could, "Nick, wake up."  
  
Suddenly he gasped and sat bolt upright, dislodging my hand from his shoulder.  
  
"Stephen!" There was panic in his voice.  
  
I sat up too, placing my hand back on his shoulder. "Here.  I'm right here, Nick," I soothed.  
  
He turned to look at me, searching my face with desperation, like he was afraid I'd disappear if he looked away.  
  
"Stephen."  This time my name was a sob, and as I watched he seemed to crumple in on himself, leaning toward me.  I grabbed him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as he buried his head in my neck and began to cry in deep, shuddering sobs.  
  
Now my own face was wet with tears, but I didn't care.  I just held him, rubbing my hand against his back, keeping up a steady stream of soothing babble, telling him that I was here, that I was OK, and that I'd never leave him, although I knew damn well I could promise no such thing.  Not with our life the way it was.  
  
"Can't lose you," he whispered in a voice so soft that if my ear wasn't so close to his face I would never have heard it. "Please, Stephen.  Can't ever lose you."  
  
"You didn't," I whispered fiercely into his ear.  "You won't," I promised.  
  
He lifted his head then, and pressed his forehead against mine, blue eyes sparkling with tears.  Where I got the courage to do what I did next I'll never know, except that I couldn't stand to see that stricken expression on his face any more.  
  
So I kissed him.  
  
Light, and almost chaste - just the softest press of lips against lips.  He sucked in a shocked breath, and I pulled back, cursing myself, terrified I'd ruined everything.   
  
But before I could even get a good panic going, he growled, the sound sending shivers down my spine.  He grabbed the back of my head and pulled me forwards again, his mouth capturing mine in a kiss that definitely was not chaste.   
  
It was rough, and desperate, and scaldingly hot.  Our teeth clashed as our tongues did battle and it wasn't the most skillful kiss I'd ever had, but it was the most perfect, because it was _Nick_.   The man I'd been in love with for years, the one I'd thought I could never have.  
  
Eventually Nick pulled back, and I heard a soft whimper I think may have come from me.  Dazed, I opened eyes I didn't remember closing, to find Nick's eyes on me, face serious.  In his gaze I saw the same combination of tenderness and hunger I had tried so hard to hide in mine when I looked at him.  But underneath I also saw some slight apprehension.  
  
"Stephen?" he said softly.  "Are you sure? Helen . . ."  
  
"Fuck Helen," I ground out.  "Rather, don't.  Nobody fucks Helen.  You're the only Cutter I want."  
  
Nick grinned then, a wide smile of relief and true happiness that I realised I hadn't seen on his face in ages.  This time I was the one who reached for him, and the next kiss was sweeter, less frantic, a leisurely exploration.   
  
Nick laid back down on the bed and drew me with him, legs tangling together, one hand cradling my head and the other skipping softly across my chest, light fluttering touches seeking out every scrape and bruise.   
  
Then he pulled away and I gasped as his mouth followed the track his fingers had followed before.  He kissed each mark gently, as if in benediction, or apology.  I twisted my fingers in his hair, soft as silk.  
  
Once he'd catalogued all my wounds, I tugged him back up to face me and lay a wondering hand on his cheek, smiling in awe as he leaned into my touch.  
  
Into the calm silence that followed, I felt my eyelids begin to droop.  Nick chuckled, the sound all the more precious because I could feel it too.   
  
He rolled onto his back and drew me with him with an arm around my neck until I lay on my side, one leg thrown over his, cheek pillowed against his chest.  I felt his lips brush against my forehead.  
  


"Sleep," he murmured, and I did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Nick**

****

When I woke again it was to sunlight streaming between the curtains I had forgotten to close the night before.  Stephen was curled into my side, still fast asleep.  Careful  not to wake him, I rolled over and leaned my head on my bent arm, content just to watch him sleep. 

  
I've heard that people look younger when they sleep.  Stephen didn't look younger, thankfully, since the age difference bothered me enough as it was, but he did look more at peace than I had seen him in a long time.   
  
It was only a few minutes before he stirred, eyes blinking sleepily before finding mine.  I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile.   
  
"Hey," I said.   
  
"Hey," he replied.  There was that wary look in his eyes again.  I wondered if he had changed his mind since last night, or if he thought that I had.  Well, the first I couldn't do anything about, but as for the second -- lack of communication had nearly destroyed us, so I was determined that Stephen would never be unsure of my feelings for him again.  So I leaned forward and kissed him softly on the mouth.   
  
All the tension drained out of him as he sighed and deepened the kiss.  Thank God I hadn't misread things.    
  
What might have been a wonderful leisurely morning snog was interrupted by the shrill ring of the phone.    
  
Stephen pulled back.  "That'll be Lester," he predicted.    
  
"He can wait," I answered, as I pulled him close again.  Unfortunately that was about when the machine clicked on and Lester's voice rather spoiled the mood.   
  
"Cutter, I certainly hope the reason you aren't answering is that you're already on your way in.  I'd really like a report on what the  _hell_ happened yesterday and exactly why there is a giant wolf in my infirmary.  And if you see Stephen, tell him I expect his report too."   
  
I sighed and rolled off the bed.  "Your stuff's still in the wardrobe," I told Stephen. "You can have the shower first."   
  
The thought of sharing had occurred to me, but I had a feeling if we did that Lester would have to send a search party.    
  
Stephen must have had a similar thought, because he looked wistfully at the bedside clock before heading to the wardrobe to gather up some of the clothes he'd always kept at my place since we'd started going on field expeditions together. That was something I'd been relieved to find hadn't changed in this time-line.   
  
I noticed he was still limping. "How's the ankle?"   
  
Stephen looked down at his feet.  "Not bad.  A bit sore.  Strained, maybe, but not sprained.  How's your head?"   
  
"Hard, apparently," I answered.  "The doctor said I didn't have a concussion, and it barely hurts this morning."   
  
"Sorry," he said, sounding embarrassed.  "I should have asked you last night."   
  
"Don't worry.  We both had other things on our minds."  I grinned.  "Now, go and get your shower before Lester calls in the troops."   
  
Stephen headed into the bathroom, and I turned to get myself ready for mine, only to be startled as Stephen emerged seconds later.  Clad only in the boxers he had worn to bed, he marched across the bedroom, grabbed my head in his hands, and stuck his tongue down my throat.  After what seemed like mere moments of the most enthusiastic kiss I'd ever been on the receiving end of, Stephen pulled back and smirked.   
  
"That's better," he said, and disappeared once more into the bathroom.  I heard the shower turn on as I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and smiled so wide that my cheeks hurt.   
  
\------------------   
  
Two hours after arriving at the ARC, Lester finally let us go to check on the dire wolf.  Despite being assured the wolf was resting comfortably, Stephen had spent at least the last hour fidgeting.   
  
"I'm sure she's fine," I assured him.  We walked down the hallway toward the infirmary, close enough that our shoulders touched.  I revelled in the heat of Stephen by my side and squashed the absurd impulse to hold his hand.   
  
I felt like a teenager with a crush; my only comfort was that Stephen was similarly affected, based on the number of times I'd caught him sneaking glances in my direction and grinning.    
  
Eventually, I was sure, the real world would intrude, but for now I was going to enjoy the fact that Stephen was alive, and here, and that we were once again on the same wavelength.  Actually it was a brilliant new wavelength that I had every intention of exploring thoroughly at every opportunity.    
  
The dire wolf was happy to see us when we finally made it down to the quarantine rooms.  She was awake, and her ears pricked forward as soon as we walked in.  Her leg was still heavily bandaged, but she stood up with little difficulty and licked Stephen's hand when he reached her.   
  
She stretched out on the rug in front of the sofa when Stephen sat on it, and he scratched behind her ears.  With her eyes closed in pleasure and her tongue hanging out, she looked almost like an over-sized family dog, and not a vicious prehistoric predator.   
  
I held back and examined her with a critical eye.  She was about 4ft tall at the shoulder, and looked like she weighed about 15 stone.  Her coat was a glossy black, her body broad with comparatively short legs, like a bulldog, and her head was much larger in comparison to her body than a modern wolf's.  That massive head held jaws strong enough to crush a human thigh-bone with little effort.  In all, she seemed a perfect specimen of  _canus dirus_ .   
  
"So, what are you going to call her?" I asked Stephen with a grin, as I lowered myself into the armchair opposite the sofa.  "Blackie, maybe?"    
  
Stephen stopped petting the wolf to stare at me incredulously, and the wolf, obviously missing the attention, dropped her head to her paws with a noise that sounded remarkably like "Humph!"   
  
Stephen laughed and resumed his ministrations, burying his hands in her thick ruff and scratching under her chin.  She leaned her body up against his legs with a satisfied sigh, and I took the opportunity to watch him unobserved.    
  
This was the Stephen I had missed.  He was happy, relaxed, and utterly enthralled with the beast at his feet.  He was giving the wolf one of his rare smiles, and I had to close my eyes against an irrational surge of jealousy.  That smile hadn't been directed my way for a long time, and I had only myself to blame.    
  
I took a deep breath.  That was in the past.  There was nothing I could do to change it, but we were better now.  Last night Stephen had given me another chance, not just to repair our old friendship but to move forward into something I had never dreamed I could have with him.  And miracle of miracles, he didn't seem to have changed his mind this morning.  Everything would be fine; no, everything would be great.  I refused to accept anything less.   
  
"Hey, Cutter," Stephen called, startling me out of my thoughts.  He had abandoned the sofa to check on the wolf's leg.  "Take a look at this."   
  
When I came up beside him, I saw that Stephen had pulled back the wrapping on the dire wolf's leg and I leaned down to get a closer look.  The wound was completely closed.  Only an angry red line of scar tissue remained where only yesterday there had been a deep gash.    
  
"That healed way too fast," I murmured.  The wolf looked over her shoulder at us curiously.  Stephen removed the rest of the bandage - it served no purpose now.  He looked up at me, clearly worried about the implications.   
  
Suddenly, Connor's voice came over the intercom.  "Er . . . you guys might want to see this."    
  
Stephen and I exchanged glances, and after Stephen gave the wolf a final pat on the head, we exited.   
  
Connor was sitting at a table outside the quarantine room, laptop in front of him.  Abby sat next to him, looking speculatively at the wolf through the glass wall.    
  
Connor looked up and fidgeted. "OK, so Lester had me pull up the video feeds from the bunker.  This is from the cage room, right after . . ."    
  
He trailed off, but I knew what he didn't say.  Right after Stephen had locked himself inside to save me.    
  
Connor flushed.  "I wouldn't ask you to watch, but . . ."    
  
Stephen interrupted him.  "It's OK, Connor.  What is it?"   
  
Connor turned back to the laptop and hit a few keys as Stephen and I sat down.  "Just watch the wolf."   
  
There on the screen was my nightmare revisited.  Thankfully the sound was off, so I didn't have to hear that horrible almost-last conversation between us.  I watched as Stephen backed toward the centre of the room and a flash of black on the side of the screen caught my eye.    
  
There was the dire wolf.  She looked between screen-Stephen and the creatures, seeming to size up the competition, then with lightning speed she lunged at the raptor closest to her.  Stephen and I watched, amazed, as she tore the leg off the raptor and flung it across the room, where it landed by his feet.    
  
"That was deliberate!" Stephen exclaimed.    
  
"She was giving you a weapon," I said in awe.  The dire wolf made quick work of the raptors, despite the gash she received as the second raptor caught her off-guard.    
  
As we watched, she clearly looked over at Stephen and at the future predators before turning to deal with the smilodon, as if checking up to make sure Stephen was doing OK.  I gasped when Stephen was pulled up by the future predator and grabbed his hand, only to stare in disbelief as the dire wolf tore across the room to grab him by the ankle and pull them down.   
  
"So that's how I got down," Stephen said softly at my side, squeezing my fingers in reassurance.  "I had wondered."    
  
The fight continued to its dramatic conclusion, and I shuddered at how close Stephen had needed to get to the mer creature to finish it off.    
  
We watched the screen as Stephen bound the wolf's wound and led her limping out of the room, after which Connor turned the video off.  He turned in his seat to look at us.   
  
"That wasn't domestication or training," Stephen said firmly.  "That was  _strategy_ .  That was human level intelligence."   
  
I nodded.  "I have to agree." Then I turned to Stephen, remembering how the wolf had grabbed his ankle. "Are you sure your ankle's OK?"   
  
Stephen scooted his chair back and lifted his right leg up so his booted foot rested on his left knee.  "It's fine - just a little sore and slightly bruised.  Although now this makes much more sense."   
  
Stephen indicated his boot and we all leaned in to look.  Scored into the leather were half a dozen small indentations.  Tooth-marks.    
  
Abby drew a shocked breath.  "Stephen, that wolf bit through a raptor's hind leg like it was a twig!"   
  
Stephen nodded.  "And yet she didn't break the skin on my ankle - in fact, she didn't even break the leather.  She bit just barely hard enough to pull me down."   
  
I shuddered as the image of Stephen being grabbed from above played through my head and thanked whoever might be listening that the dire wolf had been there.    
  
Her behaviour still made no sense, however.  And the sheer control needed to grip Stephen's leg tight enough to pull him away from the future predator without damaging the bone . . .   
  
I needed more information.  "Abby, are the lab reports back yet?"   
  
She grabbed a handful of papers off the table.  "Yeah, DNA matches what we know of  _canus dirus_ .  Female, full-grown but young. A little larger than the type specimen, but not impossibly so.  Clean of all pathogens that we know how to detect."   
  
I rubbed my face and glanced into the quarantine room, where the wolf was still lying on the rug with her head on her paws, eyes closed. "So what we have is an individual from a species that went extinct ten thousand years ago, exhibiting accelerated healing, human level intelligence, and an apparent altruistic streak." I gave Stephen a tight smile, which he returned.  "Clearly we're not dealing with just another prehistoric creature.  Any ideas?"   
  
Connor and Abby shook their heads.   
  
"Genetic manipulation?" Stephen suggested.   
  
"Possibly," I conceded, "Although that would likely mean she's from the future, rather than the past, which doesn't make much sense, unless she's a clone."   
  
"Why don't we just ask her?" Connor offered.    
  
The three of us looked at him, incredulous.   
  
"You said she had human level intelligence!" he said.   
  
Abby rolled her eyes.  "That doesn't mean she knows  _English_ , Connor.  She's from ten thousand years in the past!"   
  
In the silence that succeeded Abby's admonishment, we all jumped at a knocking sound on the glass of the quarantine room.  I spun around, vaguely seeing the others do the same.   
  
There, in the locked quarantine room, stood a young woman in a tee shirt and jeans.  She looked to be in her late twenties, with olive skin and long wavy hair the same inky black as the wolf's fur.   
  
There was no sign of the dire wolf.   
  
"Actually, I do know English," she said calmly, her voice tinny through the glass.  I vaguely noted that she spoke with an American accent.  "And if y'all are going to talk about me I'd like to be involved in the conversation."   
  
Connor was the first to recover from our shock.  "A werewolf!" he nearly shouted.  "Awesome!"   
  
  
  
\--------------------------------------------------   
  
Lester stood in the quarantine room, soldiers on either side of him, and glared at the young woman who had replaced the dire wolf.    
  
Connor had already pulled up the security footage from the quarantine room.  The dire wolf's ears had pricked up when Connor began running the cage room video, and while we had been discussing possible explanations for the wolf's bizarre behaviour, she had stood up and moved closer to the door, head cocked as if listening.    
  
What happened next wouldn't have looked out of place in a high-budget special effects film, and had made Connor start bouncing in his seat.  The air around the wolf began to shimmer, like the air above a pavement on a hot day, and then the wolf's form had seemed to melt into the shape of a young woman, fully clothed with the exception of her bare feet.   
  
This same young woman now sat on the sofa in the quarantine room, legs folded up under her, and grinned up at Lester as if she had no cares in the world.    
  
Stephen shifted by my side and I rubbed my fingers against the back of his hand, briefly, in comfort.  I knew he was feeling much the same as I was - shocked, and faintly betrayed.   
  
"What is your name?" Lester snapped.   
  
"Maria Guidry," she replied.  "But folks call me Ria."   
  
"Who do you work for?"   
  
The woman's eyes twinkled and she gave an impish grin before replying.  "Work for? I don't work  _for_ anybody. I'm just having fun!"   
  
Connor snickered, and hid his mouth behind his hand.  The rest of us looked at her blankly.   
  
"Oh come on!" she said in exasperation.  "Tom Baker? Doctor Who? I've been waiting so long for someone to ask me who I work for so I could use that line, and when I finally do get to use it, in front of a bunch of Brits no less,  _he's_ \- " She waved her arm in Connor's direction, " - the only one who gets it.  Y'all really don't have a sense of humour over here, do you?"   
  
Lester redoubled his glare. "Miss Guidry, I assure you there is nothing  _humorous_ about this situation."    
  
"OK, fine." She sighed.  "I really don't work for anyone.  I was just minding my own business, wandering around in the past, when some asshole shot me up full of tranquilisers and locked me in a cage with nasty electric bars.  Granted, I was a wolf at the time, but it was still quite rude.   
  
"So then that weaselly-looking guy kept me there for three weeks - three really  _boring_ weeks, I might add - until those folks showed up," she nodded over to where Stephen, Abby, Connor, Jenny and I were standing, "and suddenly the bars were gone and there were creatures running around and people running around and I was still trying to figure out how to get out of there when Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome, and Idiotic over there decides to try to get himself killed.  What was I supposed to do?"  Stunned silence greeted the end of this speech.  The woman seemed to be enjoying our discomfort immensely.   
  
"Why didn't you let me know you were human after the fight?" Stephen asked, quietly.    
  
The woman - Ria - turned her face our direction and her eyes softened.  "Changing forms while injured is really not a good idea.  I had to wait for the gash to heal a bit first.  Plus, I didn't really have the energy for it then."   
  
"Where were you when Leek's men caught you?" I asked.   
  
"I take it Leek's the weaselly-looking megalomaniac with the fetish for collecting extinct animals?"   
  
I nodded, inwardly appreciating the accuracy of that assessment.   
  
"I don't know," she replied.  "Natural history was never really my thing.  All I know is that there were mammoths, and lions, and saber-toothed cats, and other dire wolves, and giant sloths and really shaggy horses."    
  
Late Pleistocene then.  Just where I thought she'd been from when I thought she was just a dire wolf.  Did the areas she travelled in have something to with the forms she could use?   
  
"How'd you get there?" I asked.   
  
"I went through a sparkly portal thing.  I was curious."   
  
"Where was it?" Lester asked.    
  
"Um . . . somewhere in Brecon Beacons National Park.  Which is a great name, by the way.  Sorry I can't be more specific, but I was a wolf at the time, so directions are a bit difficult."   
  
"What were you doing in Wales?"   
  
"Sight-seeing."   
  
"I assume from your accent that you are not from Britain?"   
  
"Nope.  New Orleans.  I'm just here on vacation."   
  
"So let me get this straight -- you came to Britain from Louisiana  _on vacation_ , just happen to stumble across an anomaly, decide to go through it rather than reporting it to the authorities, end up in the . . ." Lester waved his hand at me.   
  
"Late Pleistocene," I supplied.   
  
"Right," Lester continued. "Then you got captured by Leek's men and held in his bunker until Stephen and Professor Cutter showed up?"   
  
"Yeah, that about covers it," Ria agreed.   
  
"I love how we're all ignoring the obvious here," Jenny snapped from where she had been standing silent and watchful in the corner.  "How the hell does she turn into a giant wolf?"   
  
Ria finally looked uncomfortable.  "That's a long story, really.  Not that I mind telling it, but . . . Short answer is, I'm a were-wolf."   
  
"I knew it!" Connor shouted, pumping his fist in the air.    
  
Ria smiled at him.   
  
Lester massaged his forehead with his fingers. "I'm getting a headache.  All right, you -" he pointed at Ria, "stay here and don't try to escape."    
  
Ria put her hands up in a placating gesture, plastering a 'who, me?' look on her face.   
  
"You," Lester indicated the soldiers, "keep an eye on her.  The rest of you, get back to work while I decide what to do with our guest."   
  
Jenny seemed relieved to get out of the room.  Abby had to drag Connor along.  He was muttering about all the questions he wanted to ask.   
  
Stephen and I lingered as the rest followed Lester out the door.  "I'll see about getting some food sent in for you to eat," Stephen told Ria, "and maybe some books or something."   
  
The young woman smiled then, not the amused smirk from before, but a brilliant, sincere smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it."   
  
Stephen hesitated once more.  "Thank you for saving my life," he said softly.    
  
"You're welcome," she answered seriously.  Then she grinned again.  "Even if you are an idiot," she said, laughing.    
  
Stephen nodded in acknowledgement, and walked over to the doorway.  I nodded to the girl as well, hoping she could read my own gratitude in my face.  She smiled at us both and waved as we closed the door behind us.   
  
Once outside the door, I went into the observation room to watch Ria as she settled back on the couch.  Stephen stepped up beside me, our shoulders touching.  I leaned into his warmth.   
  
"So, werewolves," he said, conversationally.   
  
"Aye.  Just when I think I can't find anything crazier than what we've already seen."   
  
"She did still save my life." Stephen pointed out, softly.   
  
"I know.  And I'm more than willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.  Let's just hope Lester sees it that way too."   
  
Suddenly Stephen's face morphed into a study of embarrassed horror.  "Oh my God, I was  _petting_ her!"   
  
I couldn't help it.  I laughed.  Long and hard and just for the joy of being able to again.  "Don't worry," I told Stephen, as soon as I caught my breath.  "I bet she liked it."   
  
And with a wink at a flustered Stephen, I headed back up to my office.  Life was good.   



	4. Chapter 4

**Stephen**   
  
  
The interview with Ria had been interesting, but raised more questions than it answered.  On the plus side, my annoying tendency to turn red at the mention of the wolf-turned-human I had so recently been petting provided the team with much-needed amusement.  Nick delighted in teasing me for the rest of the day, alternating between thinly-veiled references to bestiality and staking his own claim with a myriad of 'accidental' touches.  It was a resumption of the good-natured banter that had been the hallmark of our relationship before Helen's return, now imbued with the weight of Nick's hungry gaze and more innuendo than I had previously thought him capable of.     
  
Lester had whisked Jenny away to his office immediately after leaving the quarantine room, presumably to try to verify Ria's story, ordering Abby, Connor, Nick and I to try to make sense of everything else that had happened yesterday.    
  
The ease with which I fitted back into the team surprised me.  I'd spent so long feeling like I was on the outside looking in that it seemed almost surreal to be on pleasant (or more than pleasant, in the case of Nick) terms with the others again.  It wasn't that I hadn't believed them when they'd said I'd been forgiven, but I'd still expected it to be difficult for awhile.  But somehow the awkwardness I had been afraid of never materialised.   
  
Abby was going through the medical and post-mortem reports of the all the creatures the cleanup crews found in Leek's bunker, working with Connor to identify the species and where Leek had most likely acquired them.  Some, like one of the saber-toothed cats, Leek had appropriated directly from the ARC, but others he seemed to have acquired either on his own, or with outside help.    
  
Nick was cross-referencing Connor and Abby's list of creatures with known anomalies, while I had the enviable job of trying to make sense of Leek's records.  Already I'd been able to match each of Helen's appearances at my flat with a new acquisition by Leek, confirming that she'd been supplying him with creatures all along.  I couldn't believe I'd been so stupid as to believe she'd actually been there to see me.   
  
I hadn't been able to meet Nick's eyes when I'd showed him what I'd found, but he'd simply squeezed my shoulder and murmured "Not your fault, Stephen," before adding the data to the growing list of possible anomalies we had missed.   
  
  
  
  
By the end of the afternoon, we had a pretty clear image of what Leek had been up to.  Connor had hacked into his personal files and discovered some creative accounting that meant the ARC had been essentially footing the bill for Leek's hobby - Nick drew the short straw when it came to bringing that little fact to Lester's attention.  Still, most of the creatures Leek had collected had been before Connor's anomaly detector had come online, and those that hadn't could all be identified as coming from an anomaly we'd detected, lending support to the theory that Connor's device worked.   
  
Lester told Nick he expected our reports on his desk first thing in the morning.  Connor and Abby offered to stay, but Nick sent them home, while he and I settled into the familiar routine of late-night report writing.   
  
Nick kept up a rhetorical commentary as he typed.  "Form 37b: Documentation of Anachronistic Life Form -- do you know how many of these we're going to have to fill out?  Or what about 42a: Justification for Use of Deadly Force on Anachronistic Life Form.  Is 'It was trying to  eat me ' justification enough for you, you bastards?"   
  
I looked over my own forms.  "What do you think?" I asked Nick. "Does a werewolf count as a weapon or an Act of God?"   
  
Nick stopped ranting long enough to shoot a glance in my direction and then grinned.  "Eh - call her an environmental factor and move on," he replied with a smirk.   
  
We continued that way for hours, from the ridiculous ("Does 'Oh, shit' constitute fair warning?") to the sobering ("'Document any injuries sustained in the field' - How's your ankle?  Christ, Stephen, we were lucky this time").   
  
By the time my forms were done it was late, and I was hungry and tired.  I knew Nick felt the same, and not just by the way he pinched the bridge of his nose and ran his hand through his already messy hair.  He'd kept up a pretty steady stream of invective heaping linguistic abuse upon 'bloody bureaucrats and their obsession with fuckin' reports' for the last 45 minutes at least.   
  
When the only thing left was Nick's summary to Lester he turned to me where I was sitting on the other side of the desk, skimming through Lester's discarded newspaper.   
  
"You don't have to stick around, you know," he said reluctantly.  "This'll probably take me another half an hour."   
  
"Actually, I do," I replied.  "I forgot to have my car picked up today - it's still at the bunker.  I was hoping I could catch a ride."  I tried to make my voice sound casual, but inwardly I was hoping Nick wouldn't pick up on the weakness of my justification for sticking around.  Certainly I could have taken a taxi back to my flat, but I still found myself unwilling to give up the security of Nick's presence any sooner than I had to.   
  
Nick glanced over at me with a penetrating look and I knew I'd been caught out, but then he just smiled and ran his hand through his hair again.  "Ok, just give me another 20 minutes and we can go home."   
  
We can go home , he'd said.  I sighed.  I knew he'd meant that we could leave and he would drive me home, but just for a moment I let myself pretend it meant more.  Going home with Nick sounded like something I could get used to.   
  
After a quick call down to the quarantine area to assure myself that Ria had gotten food and books and was sleeping peacefully, I spent the next 20 minutes hiding behind Lester's paper, pretending to read it while I surreptitiously watched Nick.  Seeing him like this - fingers tapping at the keyboard in that staccato, index-finger-only manner he had of typing, muttering under his breath, foot tapping in aggravation against the base of his office chair - with the in-charge facade he kept in front of the team completely dropped, it finally sank in that he really had forgiven me.  Nearly a decade of friendship meant I could read Nick very well, which was part of the reason the last few weeks had hurt so much.  Even when he was being civil, I could read the tension and distrust in the way he moved, and the way he would look in my direction but never truly  at  me.     
  
But now even that subtle distance was gone.  This was Nick being  Nick , and comfortable enough to let me see it.  I closed my eyes against the surge of relief and joy that welled up inside me, and pushed back the absurd urge to cry.     
  
When I opened my eyes again, Nick had turned around in his chair and was looking at me with amused affection.  "Kinda hard to read with your eyes closed, isn't it?"   
  
I smiled.  "I'd already read all the good parts anyway."   
  
He stood and stretched, arms above his head, t-shirt riding up to expose just the smallest sliver of pale, toned skin.  My mouth went dry.  Nick caught my gaze and smirked.  "Ready to go?" he asked.     
  
I stood quickly.  "Definitely."     
  
Nick grabbed his bag and his keys and headed down the hallway toward the parking garage, obviously trusting me to follow. Which I did, of course, making sure to stay a few steps behind so I could appreciate the way his arse filled out his jeans.    
  
Hey, I'm only human.   
  
We walked in comfortable silence until we entered the parking garage, at which point my stomach decided to complain about my missed dinner.  Loudly.     
  
Nick glanced back at me with anoter smirk while I flushed.     
  
"I take it food is a good idea, then?"   
  
"Yes, please," I answered, grinning.  Food meant more time with Nick.   
  
"Curry good?" he asked.     
  
I nodded.   
  
We climbed into the pickup and Nick stopped at the curry place we used to frequent when we were still at the university, spending late nights at Nick's place researching or preparing papers or grant proposals.  So, I wasn't too surprised when Nick drove us to his place after.     
  
We sat on the old worn sofa in Nick's living room while we ate, talking idly about our day.  Nick was annoyed with himself for not figuring out what Leek had been up to.   
  
"I didn't catch on either," I pointed out when he started listing all the signs that seemed obvious in retrospect.  "I was convinced it was Lester."   
  
"Yeah, well, I probably didn't help much, clamming up on you the way I did."   
  
I couldn't understand why Nick seemed so determined to blame himself for everything today, since as far as I was concerned I had been far more in the wrong, but I knew better than to try to talk him out of it.  So I changed the subject.   
  
"What do you think Lester will find out about Ria?"   
  
Nick gave me a skeptical look, as if he knew what I was up to, but he accepted the diversion gracefully.  "I think he'll find that everything she said is true.  The information she gave us about her name and where she's from and all that is too easily verifiable.  Whether he finds out anything about her more . . . interesting qualities, I have no idea."   
  
"Do you think her 'interesting qualities' have anything to do with the anomalies?"   
  
"I'm actually hoping not.  If they're completely unrelated then it really has nothing to do with us, but if the anomaly did something to her, or if she was drawn to it  because she's a werewolf, that could throw off everything we think we know about them."   
  
"I want to trust her," I admitted, glancing up at Nick.     
  
"She saved your life, Stephen.  She's been very co-operative and I've seen no evidence that she's anything other than what she says she is, as unbelievable as that might be.  Lester's a suspicious bastard but I think even he'll come around eventually.  I don't see any reason not to trust her at this point."   
  
Nick fell silent after that and we both concentrated on finishing up our dinners.  I glanced up at the wall clock.  It was after midnight.  Much as I didn't want to leave, I was afraid I'd soon be wearing out my welcome.     
  
I started to gather the empty curry containers to take to the dustbin.  When I came back from the kitchen Nick was staring up at me from his seat on the couch, looking unaccountably nervous.   
  
"Stephen . . ."   
  
Something twisted in my chest as I took in his wary tone.  "Yeah?"   
  
Nick took a deep breath.  "Stay tonight."   
  
All the tension in my body washed away and I sagged in relief.  "OK," I said softly.   
  
Nick still looked nervous though.  "Stay tomorrow night, too," he whispered.   
  
My breath caught in my throat.  "OK."   
  
"And the night after."   
  
"OK."   
  
"And the night after that."   
  
I sat gently on the sofa next to Nick and put my hand over his, stilling his fingers as they picked nervously at the fabric of his jeans.  "I'll stay as long as you want, Cutter."   
  
Nick turned his head so his eyes met mine, shining bright blue with the same dawning hope and joy I knew was in my own.  "Stay always."   
  
I nodded and forced the words around the lump in my throat. "I can do that."   
  
The smile Nick gave me then was blinding.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**Nick**   
  
I knew I was grinning like a loon, but I couldn't help it.  I'd spent all evening trying to come up with an excuse to not let Stephen out of my sight.  The fact that Stephen had conveniently 'forgotten' to pick up his car gave me hope that he didn't want to go home alone either.  I knew it was irrational, but I was afraid if I let him go I'd wake up the next morning to a world where there'd been no werewolf in that room to protect him.   
  
Food had been a convenient excuse to get him back to my place but I knew if I wanted him to stay I'd have to ask.  And so I did.  And he'd said yes.  Yes to tonight.     
  
And if I dared believe him, yes to forever.   
  
The warmth of his hand on mine burned like a brand.  We should talk about this, I thought.  Not talking had got us in trouble before.  What if he didn't really mean it?    
  
In the midst of my own turmoil over what had happened in the cage room, I kept forgetting that Stephen thought he had lost me as well yesterday. Stephen had said that Helen told him I was dead to lure him to the bunker.  What if, like me, he was afraid to let me go?  What if that's all it was?   
  
I shifted slightly, turning my body to face him on the sofa.  "You don't have to," I said, forcing myself to look at his face.  "I know, I'm going too fast and . . ."   
  
Stephen bumped his knee against mine, hard, cutting me off.  He gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head at me, a fond smile curling his lip.   
  
"You're an idiot, Cutter, you know that?  Eight years isn't too fast.  It's too bloody long.  I've wanted this for years, I just never thought you would.  If you want me here, I'm here.  I never really liked that flat anyway."   
  
I laughed with relief.  We were still on the same page.  It might take awhile to get used to that again.  "I could tell," I teased him. "There isn't anything in it."   
  
He grinned.  "A carefully crafted excuse to get invited over more often, I must admit."   
  
I leaned over, my face inches from his, my hand rising to touch his cheek.  "You don't need an excuse," I whispered before covering the last few inches to capture his mouth with mine.  He moaned, and the sound went straight to my groin.  His hands came up to tangle in my hair as I pushed him back on the sofa.  The kiss was slow and lingering, breaking only when Stephen pulled away and tried to cover a yawn.   
  
"Sorry," he whispered.     
  
I laughed.  "Come on," I said, sitting back and extending a hand to pull him up as I rose.  "Bed.  It's been a long day."  I headed up the stairs, leading an unresisting Stephen along by our still-joined hands.  "We'll stop and get your car on the way in tomorrow.  And we can stop by your flat on the way back and pick up whatever you need."   
  
Stephen nodded. As we entered my bedroom he began to strip unselfconsciously down to his boxers.  I made myself turn away as I fumbled to turn on the bedside lamp before stripping as well.   Later,  I told myself.  We were both exhausted.  What was that old saying? 'The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.'  We'd have time for more later.   
  
We climbed into bed and I turned toward him until we were lying together, my chest flush against his back.  I reached my right arm around and he took my hand in his, holding it close.     
  
"Stephen?"   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Thank you for staying."   
  
He was quiet for a moment and then he squeezed my fingers.  "Thank you for asking."  And then he reached up to turn off the light.   
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Stephen**   
  
Nick and I were the subject of some speculative looks when we arrived at the ARC the next morning.  It might have been the fact that we were both easily distracted.  It might have been the way we walked beside each other nearly, touching.  Then again, it could have been Nick’s tendency to break into off-tune whistling at random moments.    
  
Exhausted as we’d both been last night, we’d more than made up for it this morning, resulting in a late arrival to the ARC - although since Nick was notorious for never showing up on time anywhere, that at least went without comment.  Nonetheless, I was quite sure our newly-consummated relationship would not stay secret for long, and despite the fact that I have always been a very private person, I found myself not minding in the least.  
  
Due to turning up late, we’d barely had a chance to grab a cup of coffee before a summons came from on high for the full team.  
  
"Well?" Nick asked Lester when he waked into the main conference room where we had gathered, holding a sheaf of papers.  
  
"Maria Thérèse Guidry, born August 23, 1980, in New Orleans, Louisiana.  Father: Louis Antoine Guidry. Mother: Gabriella Maria Guidry, maiden name Martínez.  Both deceased - the mother of cancer in 1997 and the father of a heart attack in 2002.    
  
"More recently, Miss Guidry was working on a Doctorate in English Literature, specialising in folklore, from Tulane University when she requested a leave of absence for unspecified personal reasons in May 2004.  She left the city and has not finished the degree.  
  
"Her permanent address since June 2004 is listed as a property on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain, a property that she inherited four months ago along with the rest of the estate of the owner, Joshua Landry, who was killed in a car accident in June 2006.  
  
"The current tenant of the property, one Elijah Storm, indicated that he last saw Miss Guidry in September and that she had expressed to him her desire to travel, which is why no one reported her missing.    
  
"She entered the country on October 8th.  Passport photo matches.  Her last confirmed location was a hostel in Llangorse - the proprietor said she checked out December 13th.  One would assume she encountered the anomaly shortly after that date. So far there's nothing to contradict what she's told us, although the documentation fails to indicate that she can turn into a wolf.  Sloppy of them, really."  
  
The room was silent as we all absorbed the information.  So far, it looked like Ria was exactly what she claimed to be -- a tourist who'd been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Except that she had that whole werewolf thing going on which I could tell made Lester nervous.  Personally, I was rather grateful.  
  
Beside me, Nick leaned back in his seat, precariously balancing the chair on two legs, wearing that little frown he gets when he's trying to put something together and the pieces don't fit.  
  
"Why a dire wolf?" he asked.  
  
Jenny rolled her eyes.  "That's the  _only_ thing about this situation that bothers you?"  
  
Lester shot Nick a look of annoyed confusion.  "Kindly explain the question."  
  
"She's a werewolf," he replied, launching into lecture mode. "I don't pretend to understand it, and I've got a million questions to ask her about it, but I can accept that.  After all, we chase dinosaurs that come through rips in time and space.  Consider my disbelief suspended."   
  
Nick leaned forward again, his chair slamming back down with a muted bang.  "But she doesn't turn into a timber wolf, or a red wolf, or an arctic wolf, or any of a number of wolf subspecies currently in existence.  She turns into a dire wolf -- a species that went extinct ten thousand years ago.  And yet you said she was born in 1980.  So, why a dire wolf, unless she turns into other forms as well?"  
  
"Why don't you ask her?" Lester snapped.  "Frankly, I don't care if she turns into a  _poodle_ \- what are we going to do with her?"  
  
"Let her go?" I suggested, careful to keep my voice mild.  I was as curious as anyone, but I really didn't like Lester's implication that we had any right to decide Ria's fate.  
  
"Look, no one's holding anyone against their will," Jenny interjected quickly, before Lester could respond.  "We can just ask her what she knows about the anomalies,  _ nicely," _ she added with a glance at Lester, who looked offended at the insinuation. "Then we can let her go where she wants.  This werewolf thing doesn't have anything to do with the anomalies, does it?  And you’ve found nothing that links her to Helen?"  
  
"She said she was in wolf form when she went through the first anomaly," Connor pointed out.  "That means she was a werewolf before."  
  
“And I’m quite sure she’s not working with Helen,” Nick added.  
  
"OK, fine!" Lester threw up his hands.  "We ask her  _nicely_ what she knows and we send her on her way.  And good riddance.  Dinosaurs are quite enough to contend with around here without adding werewolves to the mix."  
  
"That's it?" Connor complained.  "She's a  _ werewolf. _  Don't you want to know how that works?  What if there are others around?"  
  
"Tell you what, Connor," Nick said, "when we talk to her you can ask all the questions you want, OK?"  
  
Connor grinned.  "Great!"  He immediately started scribbling notes in his notebook.  I had a feeling Ria was in for quite the interrogation, and it would have nothing on Lester's.    
  
  
**Ria**   
  
I was on the third chapter of  _ The Call of the Wild, _ when the door to the observation room opened again.  The book had been in the small stack of novels Stephen had promised and that one of the soldiers had dropped off.  Whether ironic coincidence or purposeful smartass-ness on the part of whoever sent in the books, it  _was_ one of my favourites.    
  
I looked up, folded the corner of the page down to mark my place and tossed the book on the small table by the couch.  Five people filed in, Nick and Stephen in front, with the ones they called Connor, Abby and Jenny following.  The two soldiers who had been stationed outside the door came in too, taking up positions on either side of the exit.  
  
The big cheese who'd conducted the previous interrogation wasn't there, but I could sense a few people behind the mirrored wall, so I assumed he was probably watching.  
  
I leaned back into the sofa cushions and watched as my ‘guests’ arranged themselves around the room. I was trying not to appear as nervous as I felt.  Being trapped in a secret government testing lab is a werewolf's worst nightmare and while I instinctively trusted that Nick and Stephen weren't interested in hurting me, I wasn't sure exactly how much influence they had over the guy in charge.  
  
As Nick and Stephen made their way over to the seating area, I caught the distinctive scent of sex lingering under the stronger scents of soap and sweat.  I grinned, and gave Stephen a wink and two thumbs up.  He turned scarlet, and Nick glared at me reproachfully. Ah well.  I was happy for them, really.  And I had to get my kicks somehow.  
  
Jenny and Abby looked between us, confused, while Connor seemed oblivious to the entire exchange.    
  
Nick sat in the armchair opposite the couch, while Stephen leaned up against the armrest of the chair.  Jenny hung back by the exit, Abby folded herself into a pretzel on the floor, and Connor plopped his ever-present laptop down on the coffee table and sat down next to it.  He was literally bouncing in barely-restrained excitement, and the sight eased some of my fears.  Somehow I couldn't imagine him being involved in anything truly nefarious.  
  
Nick cleared his throat a little nervously and Stephen smiled at me reassuringly.  
  
"OK," Nick said.  "We just have a few questions and then you can go.  Although we'd like to ask that you not say anything about what you’ve seen here.  Jenny will have a bunch of paperwork for you to sign to that effect and you won't like it if she has to track you down later."    
  
What should have sounded like a threat sounded instead like good-natured teasing, and Jenny humphed in the background.  
  
"Hey," I said with a grin, starting to feel more at ease. "I'm a werewolf.  You think I can't keep a secret?  So.  You have questions.  Shoot."  
  
"Where'd you get the clothes?" Connor blurted out, looking me up and down in consternation.   
  
Abby rolled her eyes.  "Connor!"  
  
"What?  It's a valid question.  They weren't in the room before, and the wolf certainly wasn't carrying them."  
  
I laughed.  Of course that would be the first question out of Connor's mouth.  I leaned back and pulled my tee shirt up just enough to show that the 'jeans' I was wearing laced up, rather than having buttons or a zipper.  
  
"One hundred percent cotton," I explained.  "As long as it's organic, I can carry it with me so to speak.  Takes practice, but it can be done."  
  
"Is it just clothes, or can you carry other stuff too?" Connor asked.  
  
"Well, the more complex it is, the harder it is to reform when I change back to human.  I've managed a bone knife before, when I went out hunting.  It’s hard to skin a deer in wolf form.  Shoes are difficult because you have to make the soles out of something other than rubber or plastic and you have to attach them to the main part of the shoe somehow.  Usually if I need shoes, I make leather moccasins.  Generally speaking, the more things I try to carry, or the more complex the item I try to bring with me, the harder it is."  
  
Connor nodded as if this made sense, typing away at his keyboard.  
  
“Where are your personal belongings?  Clothes, passport, that sort of thing?” Jenny asked.    
  
“I stashed my knapsack behind a rock in the park,” I told her sheepishly.  “It should still be there unless someone’s found it or animals have gotten into it or something.”   
  
Jenny made a note on a small pad in her hand and I had a feeling I’d end up trying to direct some of her people to go fetch it sooner, rather than later.  
  
"Are there other werewolves?"  Nick asked.  
  
Ah, now we were getting to the serious questions.  "Yes," I answered.  "I'm not sure about in Britain, although I imagine there must be some.  Probably some were-foxes too.  It's really only the North American packs I know specifics about though.  And no, before you ask, I won't give you details about how many or where they live."  
  
"I wasn't going to ask that," Nick said.  
  
"Were-foxes?" Stephen asked, eyebrow raised.  
  
I leaned forward on the couch.  The history of Weres is something that had fascinated me ever since I was turned, and I was interested to see what they would make of it.  As long as I wasn't putting specific packs in danger, I saw no harm in explaining the rest.  
  
"There are Were versions of every species in the Canidae family that's ever existed -- wolves, foxes, coyotes, raccoon dogs, you name it.  Since Weres can take human form, often times the Were line will survive even when the canid species becomes extinct."  
  
"Like the dire wolf,"  Nick said.  
  
I nodded.  "Like the dire wolf.  There aren't many Were-dire wolves left, to be honest.  Three or four hereditary lines at best.  We're mostly outnumbered by the grey wolf Weres."  
  
"Hereditary lines?" Nick asked.  "So Weres are born, not turned from humans?"  
  
"For the most part." I answered.  "The vast majority of Weres are born Weres, because one or both of their parents was a Were.  People  can  be turned into Weres, although it takes more than just being bitten.  The one doing the biting has to  intend to make a new Were.  To turn an unwilling human into a Were is the strongest taboo Were society has.  And since we, by necessity, tend to keep our existence a secret, turned Weres don't happen very often."  
  
"Which are you?"  Abby asked curiously.    
  
I started slightly, having forgotten she was there.  
  
"I was turned.  Three years ago.  But I wasn't unwilling."  I added the last bit almost defensively.   
  
Abby looked at me with sympathy in her eyes, which I returned with a glare.  I felt naive.  How could I have thought the questions wouldn't get personal?  Talking about Were history was one thing.  Talking about my own history was something else.  My own history was exactly what I had come to Britain to avoid.  
  
"What happened?" Abby asked kindly.  
  
Stephen seemed to pick up on my discomfort.  "We're getting off-topic."  
  
"Stephen's right," Nick said.  Turning back to me he asked, "The anomaly you went through in the Brecon Beacons -- that was the first one you'd seen?"  
  
I relaxed, glad to be back on a less painful topic.  "Yes.  I didn't know what it was at the time."  
  
"How did you find it?"  
  
"I was wandering around in dire wolf form - it relaxes me, and there's just so much more to sense as a wolf.  And I’d be able to sense if anyone got close enough to see me.  The portal thing - you call them anomalies?  Anyway, it was over a ridge in a little valley.  It was doing weird things to my senses - it smelled kind of metallic and it made the air around it feel heavy.  And when I got near it there was this pleasant buzzing in my head."  
  
"So you could sense the anomaly in wolf form?" Nick asked excitedly.  
  
"Definitely."  
  
"You said the buzzing was pleasant?" Abby asked with a wicked smirk.    
  
I found myself blushing inexplicably.  "Yeah, like being just a bit tipsy."  
  
"So maybe the anomalies are drawing the creatures to them somehow," Abby concluded.  "That would explain why so many things come through."   
  
Nick nodded.  "So you went through?" he asked me.  
  
I nodded.  "I was curious."  
  
"You didn't think it might be dangerous?" Stephen looked appalled at my lack of self-preservation.  
  
"Honestly," I said, "there's not much that can harm a 200-pound dire wolf.  And Weres heal fast anyway."  
  
"So we saw," Nick said, with a pointed glance at my hip.    
  
I shrugged.  "It seemed worth the risk.  And on the other side -- it was magnificent!  I'd never smelled air so fresh.  Everything was beautiful and untouched and wild.  I think it's the first time my wolf side has ever felt truly at home."  
  
"What if you'd been unable to find a way back?" Stephen pointed out.  
  
I sighed.  "Then I'd have stayed there.  I don't really have much on this side to miss."  Shit. I hadn’t meant to say that.  They all looked a little startled at the blunt honesty of that statement, but to my relief, no one pressed for more information.  
  
"How long were you in the Pleistocene?" Nick asked.  
  
I thought back.  "There was a full moon a few days after I went through the anomaly, and I was captured about a week after the fourth one.  So . . . a little over three months, I guess."  
  
Everyone looked startled.  "That long?" Stephen asked.  
  
I shrugged.  "The anomaly was gone when I went back to look for it.  I found another one while I was there, but it went somewhere I could barely breathe, so I didn't stick around."  
  
Nick's eyes brightened when he heard about the other anomaly, but before he could ask any more questions, he was interrupted by the chime of a cell phone.  Jenny pulled her phone out and answered with a clipped "Lewis."  
  
Soon she flipped the phone closed and turned to the others.  "I'm afraid we're going to have to cut this short.  We've got another one."  
  
Nick turned back to me.  "I want you to give Connor and Abby a description of that other anomaly and where it led.  In as much detail as you can remember.  And everything you remember about the creatures you encountered in the Pleistocene."  
  
"Sure thing, boss," I quipped, flipping a jaunty salute.    
  
Stephen rolled his eyes at me.  
  
Nick turned to Connor and Abby.  "You two stay here and keep our guest company.  We'll call you if we need you."  
  
With that, he and Stephen followed Jenny out the door.  Connor looked torn between being excited at the possibility of asking me more questions and disappointed he wasn't going with Nick and Stephen.  
  
He rallied quickly though, blurting out question after question with all the enthusiasm of a geek in heaven.  Abby interjected occasionally with questions about the animals I'd seen in the past, but mostly it was Connor's show.  
  
I didn't mind.  Connor reminded me of myself when I was younger, before everything had gone wrong and ruined my optimistic outlook.  More importantly he reminded me of myself right after Joshua had turned me - fascinated and eager to discover everything I could about this world I'd never known existed.  
  
Abby asked questions primarily about my experiences with the anomalies.  Had the one I’d found in the Pleistocene drawn me like the one in Brecon Beacons had?  Had I seen any humans while I was in the past?  She seemed excited when I explained that I could sense the other anomaly, but it didn't draw me in the way the first had, and a little startled when I answered that I had smelled humans when I was in the Pleistocene, but purposely avoided them.  
  
“I was on my own,” I explained.  “Humans hunt in packs - if they’d known there was a wolf in their territory they’d have tracked me down and used my hide as a blanket.  The only way Leek’s men got me was by sneaking up on me while I was asleep.”  
  
Abby and Connor had a vigorous discussion I couldn't quite follow about magnetism and migratory birds and hostile environments, but whatever it was they seemed excited about it.  
  
Connor was clearly more interested in the fact that I was a werewolf than my trip through the anomalies.  He asked many of the same questions I had asked Joshua three years ago: does it hurt to change? (no); do you eat raw meat as a wolf? (yes);  do you have to change during the full moon? (no); and many more besides.  He wanted to know if it was true that we could only be killed by silver bullets (absolutely not) and whether I knew of any vampires or other supernatural creatures (no, but then I’d never known of werewolves until I’d become one).  
  
Eventually, however, his questions got more and more personal, as I should have expected they might: do werewolves form packs like regular wolves? (yes); do I have a pack? (not at the moment); why not? (I _ don't _ want to talk about it).  
  
Without Stephen to kindly run interference between me and Connor's curiosity and Abby's ill-concealed sympathy, I admit I was relieved when Abby's cell phone rang and interrupted the uncomfortable questioning.  
  
That relief turned to concern, however when her eyebrows drew together in worry and she nearly shouted into the phone "What do you mean 'they're  _ missing'?" _  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Ria   
  
Connor paled and leaned closer, trying to listen in.   
  
"OK, fine.  We're on our way," Abby finally said, and snapped the phone shut.  Connor was already gathering up his laptop.    
  
"Was that about Nick and Stephen?" I asked quietly.    
  
Abby looked at me warily for a moment, and then finally nodded.  "Apparently they vanished while the soldiers were doing a sweep of the area around the anomaly.  They think perhaps they went through.  We're going to go see if we can send one of Connor's robots through and have a look around.”   
  
"Take me with you," I begged, as they started for the door.  There was a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach at the thought of Nick and Stephen in danger and my wolf side was already in defend-and-protect-the-pack mode.  When the hell had Nick and Stephen become Pack?   
  
"I'm a wolf, remember?” I argued, “I can track them by smell.  If they went through, I'd know it and be able to follow the trail."  Connor looked at Abby hopefully.   
  
"Look, I promise I won't run away or anything," I argued, when I saw her hesitate. "I just want to help."   
  
Abby sighed.  "OK, fine.  Lester is so going to kill me for this.  Just keep close and don't do anything stupid."  I nodded and followed obediently behind them as they left the quarantine room.   
  
"You guys got all the answers you need?" asked one of the soldiers as they led me out.   
  
"Yup!" Connor replied cheerfully.  "She was very helpful!  Lester said she could go once we were finished getting her information."   He smelled nervous, and I could tell he was lying through his teeth, although he was such the picture of innocence I doubt the soldier could.   
  
"Well, then," the soldier said, smiling. "Nice to meet you, Miss.  Interesting . . . but nice.  And thanks for what you did for Stephen."   
  
I nodded, and he let us past.  No one else questioned us as I followed Connor and Abby through the corridors, and they both let out a small sigh of relief when we reached what appeared to be a parking garage.    
  
"You're not wearing any shoes," Abby scolded as I climbed into the back of the van they were taking.  I'd really hoped she wouldn't notice that.   
  
"Don't need them.  I've got wicked calluses," I claimed, exaggerating only slightly.  Abby rolled her eyes at me and dug around behind the seat before coming up with a pair of hard leather boots.    
  
"Here," she said, tossing me the footwear.  "They're Stephen's I think.  He always keeps some spare boots around just in case.  They'll be too big for you, but it's better than nothing."   
  
I agreed, and pulled the boots on over my bare feet.  They were a bit big, but I have large feet for a woman, so it wasn't too bad.  The boots smelled like Stephen, which would help me pick up his trail in the first place but I realised I’d have to ditch them again once I picked up the scent if I was to have a hope of tracking them.     
  
Abby drove, headed toward wherever Stephen and Nick had gotten themselves lost, while Connor sat in the front passenger seat fiddling with some electronic doo-dad or another.  With nothing to do but sit and wait I immediately went into worry-mode.  What if there were people around who weren’t involved in the anomaly project?  My sense of smell in human form is much better than other people’s but not nearly good enough for tracking.  If I couldn’t change I wouldn’t be much help.    
  
It galled me to realise I wasn’t in charge here.  Before, my authority was second only to Joshua’s, and in matters of defense and safety I outranked even him.  But this wasn’t Louisiana.  No matter what my wolf-brain thought, I wasn’t Beta any more and these people weren’t my Pack.  Here, I had to beg to be involved at all.   
  
As I stared out the window of the truck, I couldn't help but flash back to all of the vicious creatures in that cage room.  Which of them might Nick and Stephen be facing right now?  I just hoped we wouldn't be too late.   
  
  
Nick   
  
Stephen and I were going to die.  We were going to die because I’d finally gotten my head out of my arse after the  last close call and now I was happy with Stephen and that violated Fate’s rule that Nick Cutter can never  ever be happy and therefore Stephen and I had to die.  Because Fate’s a bitch.  She’s clearly related to Helen.   
  
And, just to make sure the irony was lost on no one, we were going to die the way Stephen very nearly had - torn apart by a pack of Velociraptor’s lesser cousins: retriever-sized dromaeosaurs bedecked in cheerful pink feathers that did nothing to disguise the danger posed by their razor-sharp teeth and hooked claws.   
  
It had seemed like an easy job at first.  The anomaly was in a bit of woods between two housing developments.  There was no one around, and it had looked like we wouldn’t need Jenny’s unique talents after all.  The ground around the anomaly was a mess of tracks, but no more so than any other area of the woods, which was probably used by the local residents walking their dogs.  There was no obvious evidence that anything had come through.  The soldiers left Stephen and I to keep an eye on the anomaly and set up the equipment while they fanned out to canvass the area and make sure nothing was were it shouldn’t be.   
  
And that was when Stephen noticed it, not far from the anomaly.  Trampled ground, torn-up sod, broken branches - and a plush dog with half the stuffing ripped out.  We traded matched looks of horror.  Stephen grabbed the handset to call back the soldiers, but all we could hear was static.     
  
“They’ll figure out the sets aren’t working soon enough,” Stephen said, as if trying to convince himself.  It wasn’t working.   
  
“We can’t wait,” I argued.  “If something took a *child* through . . .”     
  
Stephen nodded grimly. “I know.”  I was already heading toward the anomaly, scooping up a survival pack as I passed the pile of equipment still half set up.  Stephen slung his rifle over his shoulder and grabbed my arm.  “We’ll just go in for a few minutes, see if there’s any evidence on the other side.  Unless the kid’s in view, we come back and wait for the others.  Deal?”  I agreed, happy he wasn’t trying to talk me out of going through at all.   
  
When we stepped through the anomaly, the first thing I noticed was the heat and humidity.  The air settled over us like a heavy blanket.  There was a lush forest to the left, but the area immediately around the anomaly was bare and rocky - no tracks.  We took a few steps toward the edge of the forest, to see if we could find any evidence that a human had passed this way.  And that was when the anomaly flickered and collapsed behind us.   
  
“Shit!” Stephen swore.  I just stared blankly at the empty air where the anomaly had been.  There’d been no advanced warning, no spike on the radios, no visual cues until only seconds before it closed.     
  
Suddenly a shadow fell overhead.  I glanced up, and saw several winged shapes circling - pterosaurs of some sort.    
  
“We need to get to the treeline,” Stephen said, voice tight.  “We’re too exposed out here.”  We began picking our way carefully over the rocks to the edge of the forest.  Once inside the treeline, we crouched under some foliage and I began going through the pack while Stephen checked the ammunition in the rifle and watched the sky.   
  
“Well, we’ve got some basic rations and purification tablets assuming we can find some water,” I told Stephen.  “And we’ll need to find someplace we can keep an eye for that anomaly.”   
  
“Er . . . Nick?”  The wary tone in Stephen’s voice made my blood run cold.  I looked up at him.  His gaze was fixed on a point over my left shoulder.  I craned my head around to see while moving as little as possible.  Was that . . . pink?   
  
Slowly I rose to my feet and backed up a step to put me next to Stephen, staring at the snout poking through the brush in front of us.  Raptor.   _Deinonychus_ , probably.  And where there was one . . .    
  
A small growl-chirp drew my attention to the right, where two more pink heads peered at us.  The one in front started to creep forward.     
  
Stephen and I backed away slowly only to find more raptors behind us.  What followed was a carefully orchestrated game of cat and mouse.  The raptors were clearly herding us somewhere, and we had little choice but to go where they wanted.  I’d left the pack behind and at one point Stephen tripped over a tree root and dropped the rifle.  One of the raptors nearly took his hand off when he reached for it, so we lost that as well.     
  
I’d tried throwing rocks off into the jungle to create a distraction, but apparently the rumours of raptor intelligence were not exaggerated.  My panicked mind fancied they looked insulted at the attempt.  Finally, it seemed they had us where they wanted us, surrounded, backed against a large rock.     
  
I reached out and grabbed Stephen’s hand.  One of the raptors leapt forward and snapped its jaws inches away from Stephen’s face, causing his head to bang against the rock as he flinched back.  They were playing with us, and as soon as they got tired of the game, we were going to die.  A glance at Stephen and I knew he knew it too.  I pressed closer and squeezed his hand.  Nothing to do but wait.     
  
I had barely enough time to register the sound of a larger creature crashing through the forest to the left when the lead raptor crouched and sprang.  I pressed back against the rock and closed my eyes.   
  
  
Ria   
  
When we got there, the anomaly was surrounded by ARC soldiers, milling about and looking worried.  Connor went immediately over to the equipment and started examining it, muttering under his breath.  Abby made a beeline for the guy apparently in charge.   
  
“What happened?”  she demanded.  It was almost amusing to see short little Abby staring down an armed soldier, especially given how uncomfortable the man looked.     
  
He glanced over at me for a moment before answering.  “We’re not sure.  Stephen and the Professor were setting up the equipment while my men scouted the area.  There was interference on the radios - they weren’t working. We didn’t see any signs that anything had come through.  When we got back, they were gone, and so was the rifle and the supply pack.  We think they might have gone through.”   
  
“Any idea why?”  Abby asked.     
  
The soldier pointed over to an area under two trees on the other side of the setup area.  The ground was torn up and a ripped plush toy lay on the ground.  “We found that.  Looks like a struggle - at least 12 hours old.  And the toy - if there were kids . . .”     
  
He trailed off.  He didn’t need to say any more.  If Nick and Stephen thought there might be kids in trouble, they’d have done anything to get them back.   
  
“Hey guys,” Connor called, looking worried.  “The computer shows that the anomaly closed, about 20 minutes before Abby and I were called.  It stayed closed for about 15 minutes and then opened back up again.”   
  
“To the same place?” Abby asked.   
  
“I think so,” replied Connor.   
  
“So they might have gone through intending to just get a quick look and then gotten stuck.  But why didn’t they come back when the anomaly re-opened.”   
  
Seeing the confusion in their eyes made it hard to point out the obvious, but I did it anyway.  “A lot can happen in 15 minutes,” I said softly.    
  
Abby looked scared.  “Ria?  Can you find them?”   
  
I shifted quickly, aware of the eyes upon me.  In wolf form, the area around the anomaly exploded with scent information.  Nick’s and Stephen’s scents were everywhere, and it took me a moment to sort out the trail.  They’d moved back and forth in the area in front of the anomaly, clearly setting up the equipment.  Then they went over and stood by the area where the toy was found for a few minutes.     
  
I moved closer, untangling the scents in that area.  Buried underneath Nick’s and Stephen’s scents were the scents of two young  boys.  Also, a couple of squirrels and a fox.  But nothing else.  No strange scents I couldn’t identify.  The two boys’ scents moved off in the direction of one of the housing developments.  They’d probably had a scuffle with each other and the toy had gotten torn and left behind.  They definitely hadn’t been attacked by anything prehistoric or gone through the anomaly.     
  
But Nick and Stephen hadn’t known that.  Their scents led back to the equipment area, and then straight into the anomaly.     
  
Having followed the scent to the portal I stood in front of it.  In the back of my head I could feel that pleasant buzzing sensation, but I pushed it aside in favour of focusing on Nick and Stephen.  They’d gone through.  They hadn’t come back.  That leaves only one option.   
  
Turning back I saw Abby and Connor watching me intently.  Shifting back and explaining things would take too long.  I met Abby’s eyes and nodded deliberately.  She paled.  Then I jerked my head in the direction of the anomaly, and plunged through.  They could follow or not, as they wished.   
  
The other side was rocky and bare for several meters before exploding into lush vegetation.  Pterodactyls flew overhead.  The air smelled different from what I was used to, but I could still pick up Nick and Stephen’s scents quite easily.  They went into the forest.   
  
Nose to the ground, I followed the scents past the treeline.  What I found made my blood run cold.  Nearly overpowering the scent of the two men were the scents of at least a dozen reptilian predators.  They smelled similar to the velociraptors I’d encountered in Leek’s bunker, and as Nick’s and Stephen’s scents moved deeper into the forest, theirs followed.  Mind racing with the implications, I took off running, following the invisible line that led not only to my two missing friends, but to a pack of hungry dinosaurs as well.   



	7. Chapter 7

Stephen   
  
At first, my only impression was of speed and darkness.  One moment there were teeth and claws heading towards me and the next something large and dark passed within inches of my face, creating a cool blast of displaced air.  There was the dull thump of flesh hitting flesh, and the raptor that had lunged at us gave a shrill cry that was quickly cut off.   
  
Beside me, Nick’s hand loosened around mine and his eyes flew open in shock.  The other five raptors were swivelling their heads in confusion, rustling their feathers and making disturbed chirping noises at each other.  Once again, a dark shape blocked my vision, and it took me a moment to realise what I was seeing.   
  
During the fight in the cage room, I really gotten a good look at Ria until it was all over.  I was aware there was a creature in the room that appeared to being fighting with me, rather than against me, but I was too focused on my own survival to pay attention to anything but the next immediate threat.     
  
Afterward, she had been injured, weak and compliant; the next morning she’d been friendly and playful.  In my head, I’d formed an impression of Ria’s wolf form as simply an oversized dog.   
  
What I saw now was no dog.  A few feet from the crumpled body of the lead raptor the dire wolf stood defensively between us and the rest of the raptors, four paws planted firmly, stance wide.  Her fur, black as ink, stood on end, making her look even larger than she truly was.  The longer fur around her neck puffed out like a lion’s mane.  She lowered her head between her front legs, eyes focused on the raptors, lips curled back to expose glistening fangs, and growled.   
  
The sound reverberated through the ground, the air, the very stone at our backs.  Deep in the back of my brain, a long-forgotten terror bubbled to the surface - the instinctual fear of the prey for the predator.  By the way Nick trembled beside me, I knew he felt it too.   
  
But fast on its heels another feeling welled up within me: awe.  She was terrifying, yes.  But she was also magnificent.   
  
Movement out of the corner of my eye reminded me that there was still danger.  The five raptors had regrouped.  Like a child poking a stick at a snake, the raptors darted forward and back, testing the waters.  One raptor leapt forward and snapped its jaws inches from Ria’s left shoulder.  She merely leaned slightly to the right, avoiding the attack with ease.  Another did the same, aiming at her right leg.  This time she  moved.   
  
Her massive jaws caught the raptor mid-leap and after a sickening crunch of bone she threw the broken body aside, taking a single step toward the four remaining predators.     
  
With high-pitched chirps of alarm, they turned and disappeared into the undergrowth.  The massive black wolf stood in place for a short while, head raised, scenting the air.  Apparently satisfied there were no more threats, she turned toward us, body blurring and shrinking as she spun around, wolf blurring and shifting to woman between one step and the other.  Three more steps and she was inches from Nick, looking up at him with barely restrained fury flashing in her dark eyes.  With concern, I realised she was trembling.   
  
“What the hell did you think you were doing?!” she yelled.  Nick looked as shocked as I felt.   
  
“Are you *trying* to get yourselves killed?” she continued.  “Cause from where I’m standing you seem to make a habit of it.  How in hell have you survived this long?  Do you ever use that big brain of yours for, oh, I don’t know, THINKING?!”  She took a deep shaky breath, but I could tell she was far from done.   
  
“Following unknown tracks through an unknown portal without even waiting for backup?  You’re damn lucky those raptors were more interested in playing with you.  If they’d really been hungry you’d have been dead before you saw so much as a single feather.  Is that what you want?  Are you really that stupid or do you just enjoy giving the people around you heart attacks?”  By this point she was literally spitting the words at Nick’s face.     
  
“You . . . you . . . Stupid.  Idiot.” She punctuated each word with a slap to Nick’s chest and then suddenly, without warning, leaned forward to rest her forehead against his shoulder and burst into deep hysterical sobs.   
  
I glanced over at Nick whose arms had reflexively embraced the sobbing girl.  He looked at me with a bewildered expression that clearly said “Help!”   
  
Normally I would have laughed at the usually confident Nick looking so flustered but right now my brain was still trying to catch up with events.  And I was worried about Ria - this reaction was the last thing I had expected.  Stepping closer, I placed my hand awkwardly on her shoulder, not really any more comfortable than Nick in dealing with a crying woman.   
  
At the touch, Ria pulled away from Nick and threw her arms around my neck this time, squeezing so tight it was almost painful.  “You’re stupid too,” she muttered into my shoulder.   
  
Still hesitant, but clearly strongly affected, Nick moved closer, putting his hand on Ria’s shoulder, and we stood there, offering wordless reassurance against a pain neither of us really understood.   
  
Finally, Ria’s sobs died down to mere sniffles and she stepped back, drawing deep, gulping breaths as she got herself under control.     
  
“Are you all right?” I asked quietly, and then inwardly cursed myself.  Stupid question.  People who are all right don’t usually spend five minutes crying and clinging to people they barely know.  But she simply gave me a tremulous smile.   
  
“Yeah.  Sorry.” The apology was nearly whispered and she immediately looked down again.  I met Nick’s worried eyes over Ria’s shoulder.  This vulnerable, insecure version of Ria was at direct odds with the confident, brash, snarky young woman I’d recently come to like.  I was filled with the overwhelming desire to figure out exactly what had caused this drastic change in demeanor so that I could fix it immediately.   
  
Ria   
  
Oh God.  Please just let me disappear.  Just let me close my eyes and when I open them I’ll be back in Louisiana and Joshua will be there and I won’t be Packless in a foreign country in the distant past and  falling apart in front of people I barely know.  Isn’t it weird sometimes, the way you can feel like a stranger in your own body?  At this moment I felt like I was three people; as if one part of me stood apart watching as my human half fell apart under the strain of the last few months, crying into Stephen’s shirt like a hysterical child while my wolf half contentedly chanted “Pack! Pack! Pack!” in the back of my head.   
  
I was holding onto Stephen and Nick was a warm presence at my back almost but not quite touching apart from the hand on my shoulder and despite the imminent danger of attack by any of a number of bloodthirsty creatures I hadn’t felt this safe since Joshua died.  The wolf in me was exulting in the comfort and warm closeness of those she had designated Pack, blissfully ignoring the voice of my human half insisting that I had no  right to these people.   
  
The stiffness with which Stephen held me and the tentative feel of Nick’s hand on my shoulder revealed their discomfort with the situation, but for the moment it I was just grateful that they cared enough to try to comfort me.   
  
With effort, I pulled myself together, somewhat literally.  The wolf was firmly reminded that these people were  not my Pack and banished to the edges of my consciousness where she sulked like the kicked puppy she was.  I pulled away from Stephen, taking a few deep, calming breaths and willing my hands to stop trembling.  Dimly I heard Stephen as if I was OK.   
  
“Yeah. Sorry,” I murmured when I was sure my voice would be steady.  “It’s been a really stressful couple of months.  Didn’t mean to freak out on you.”  They accepted that explanation without question, clearly relieved that the hysterics appeared to be over.   
  
Nick seemed to consider the matter closed, and started checking out our surroundings, probably trying to figure out which direction we’d need to go to get back to the portal and nervous about additional danger.  But Stephen kept looking at me.   
  
“I think you’re entitled to a little freaking out,” he said softly with a wry smile, but his eyes searched my face as if looking for some indication that there was more to my breakdown than I had let on.  He’d struck me from the first as unnaturally perceptive for a male..   
  
I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get away without at least a little more explanation, but now was definitely not the time.  The air still smelled clear of anything dangerous, probably scared off by the smackdown I’d given those raptors, but the portal had disappeared once and we really needed to get back before it did so again, trapping us in the past.  I  might manage to survive here for awhile, although I was sure there were things bigger and more dangerous than those raptors out there - but I wasn’t sure I could protect Nick and Stephen for any real length of time and besides, they had lives to bet back to.   
  
Wiping roughly at my eyes with the heels of my palms, I put some more space between me and the two men, and started walking toward the forest.    
  
“This way,” I called over my shoulder, still avoiding their eyes for fear I might break down again.  I could hear them both following, sneakers crunching on the pebbly ground as I followed my own scent-trail back toward the portal, leading them home.


End file.
